


Nebula - Black Hole

by TheArtificialDane, veronicasanders



Series: Galactica [6]
Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: F/M, Galactica
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 12:32:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16681684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheArtificialDane/pseuds/TheArtificialDane, https://archiveofourown.org/users/veronicasanders/pseuds/veronicasanders
Summary: Sutan and Jinkx almost got married, but how did they get there, and how did it happen?Part of Galactica and written by Veronica Sanders.





	Nebula - Black Hole

All her life, Jinkx felt a stifling need to live up to other people’s expectations. It started when she was 4 years old. Precocious and sassy, she stood up on a table at her cousin’s Bat Mitzvah and began to perform for all of the party guests. She remembered their faces - full of love and joy, clapping for her. Her heart burst with pride, especially when her mother scooped her up and covered her with kisses.

“My little star,” her mother had said. “My precious little star.”

Against her grandmother’s sage advice, her mother allowed their family friend to put little Jinkx in a commercial, and that led to three more, and within a year, her mom quit her “job” as head of the board for one of the family’s many charities, becoming a full-time manager for her “little star.” And when her father filed for divorce, having taken up with a Lithuanian bikini model, it was good that she had something to focus on besides wine and pills.

When it was time for Jinkx to start kindergarten, her mom decided to enroll her in Professional Children’s School, where she was one of their brightest students. She soon got a roll on “All My Children,” which lasted for 3 seasons. At age 7, her constant dance and singing lessons finally paid off when she was cast as Young Cosette in Les Miserables. Two years later, she won the title role in the revival of Annie as well as Kevin Costner’s sarcastic daughter in the hottest action comedy of the summer.

She was 12 years old when she hit what everyone thought was a jackpot - originating the role of Mary in the sure-to-be-Broadway-hit, The Secret Garden. She was so proud, worked so hard to get every song perfect, anticipated opening night with the most nervous excitement she’d ever felt. Originating a role, in a musical this good, she was in the running for a Tony Award. This could finally be the big break she’d always wanted, always craved, always desperately needed.

Then, the day before her 13th birthday, they called her, her agent, and her mother into the producers’ office. They handed over the signed contract, with a clause highlighted. It was to be terminated if she gained 15 pounds, or 2” in height. She gulped. She’d just gone through an awkward growth spurt. She couldn’t stop the tears from falling as she begged the producers to let her do “just one season, please!” She promised to lose weight, maybe the other actors could wear higher heels. She begged and begged and finally had to be dragged out by her apologetic mother, screaming and crying and gasping for air.

At home, her mother gave her a Xanax and rubbed her back until she fell asleep. The Xanax helped. Too much. She woke up at 3 am craving more, finding them in her mom’s purse.

She went on a few disastrous auditions in the next few months. Finally, after the fourth one, she admitted to herself that it was over. She was no longer cute, no longer the charming little girl with red ringlets and sparkling brown eyes. The only parts she qualified for now were teenage characters. And so her competition was no longer other kids, who didn’t have her experience or talent, but rather 18 year old girls, with perfect skin and perfect bodies, girls who’d stopped growing, didn’t have to go to school, and could blow the producers without that complicated business of not being legal.

But by then, she didn’t really care anymore. She’d embraced her new freedom. For the first time, she didn’t have to worry about 7 am call times or 8 am dance classes. She didn’t have to eat healthy or skip her friends’ birthday parties.

Her parents gave her a long leash. They knew she was having a hard time and wanted her to enjoy her newfound freedom. Her mother went back to work - she was in high demand, having completed two PhDs during her “momager” years. Her stepdad happily paid her staggering credit card bills, thrilled to have her distracted and out of the house. Her father was nowhere to be found, off galavanting around Asia with his fourth wife.

No one cared when she started sneaking into clubs with the most ludicrous fake ID ever. They wanted her to have fun. The bartenders knew the awkward thirteen-year-old was the baby of the Monsoon department store empire, and no one said no to her. Or to her habit of mixing her mother’s meds with jack and gingers.

She became better known as a party girl than she ever was as an actress. Soon her image was splashed all over every tabloid: photos of drunken nights filled with debauchery - dancing on tables, making out with boys, with girls, always with a glass in her hands.

***

She was 15 years old when she met Sutan and Raja. To be specific, when she tumbled over their table, spilling a drink all over them. Raja stood up, ready to fight, but when Jinkx paid off their tab and invited them to join her in the VIP section, all was suddenly forgiven.

When Jinkx climbed into Sutan’s lap, grinding her ass against his crotch, he was shocked. “How old are you?!”

“Old enough,” Jinkx said, and then stuck her tongue out at her friend Cynthia when she called out, “Fifteen!”

“Oh my god,” Sutan said, pushing her off. “You’re a kid.”

“Please,” Jinkx replied, rolling her eyes. “If you’re gonna be a spoilsport, I’ll just go have another threesome with Tad and Tara Kennedy.”

Sutan smiled. “Get home safe, kiddo.”

Jinkx would have been inhuman to not have a crush on Sutan at 20 years old. He was handsome, funny, stylish, charming, and just awkward enough to be endearingly adorable. And of course, to Jinkx’ utter despair, he treated her like a baby sister. Kind, loving, protective, but ultimately not taking her, or her constant advances, seriously.

***

Her senior year of high school, she was invited to debut at the Waldorf Astoria. After laughing with her friends about it for 2 days (Really? What on earth were her qualifications for that prissy tradition? She only had one - her bank account.), she accepted. She was nervous when she asked Sutan to be her escort, but he immediately agreed. “Of course, Jinkxy! Anything for you.”

It was just after cocktail hour when they realized that they’d both snuck flasks of whiskey into the party. Well, Sutan had snuck in a flask. Jinkx had 4, strapped to her thighs by garters. After her debut, she dragged him out of the reception and up to her luxurious suite, where they got sloppy drunk, making fun of all the stuffy assholes downstairs.

Jinkx tossed her ball gown over a chair and slipped under the sheets, giggling at Sutan’s impression of Anna Beth Porter, a delicate waif-like blonde with a perpetual stick up her ass. She reached forward, putting her hand on Sutan’s belt. He looked down in surprise, but didn’t stop her as she slowly began to unbuckle his pants.

“Baby,” he muttered, “I’ve had so much to drink, I don’t know if I can…”

“Oh yeah?” Jinkx already had a small hand wrapped around his dick, tongue down his throat. “You sure about that?”

Sutan could feel himself growing in her hands. “Uhhh, not…totally sure.” He fumbled around, sliding her panties down.

Jinkx giggled, pushing him onto his back and climbing on top of him.

“I…Jinkx, maybe this isn’t a good idea.”

She stuck out her lower lip in a pout. “Please, Su? Please fuck me…?” Eyes flashing with naughty, drunken glee, Jinkx lowered herself and began to suck him off, taking him so deep that he felt the back of her throat.

“Oh, Allah…”

“Leave him out of this. I’m Jewish, remember?”

He woke up in the morning, head pounding, and immediately felt a stab of regret, followed by a moment of panic. When was her birthday? She wasn’t 18 yet, was she? Fuck.

Jinkx was pulling on a t-shirt, her hair still in its elaborate updo, decorated with baby’s breath. She tossed him a wry smile. “Don’t worry. I’m not gonna start calling you my boyfriend or anything. I know what this was.”

“Jinkxy…”

“Please. It’s okay. I swear.” Jinkx hopped back onto the bed and kissed him. “And don’t worry, I won’t tell your sister. Or Bianca.”

Sutan sighed with relief. “Good, cause I’m not sure who’s more likely to kick my ass.”

Jinkx giggled, hands drifting down his body.

“Wait…”

Jinkx stopped, frowning. “What’s wrong?”

“I just…I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to do this again. I just–”

Jinkx crawled away from him, nodding. “Sure.” She began to put on a pair of overalls.

“Don’t be mad, I just–”

“I’m not mad. I get it.”

“Really? Because you know, I really love you–”

Jinkx scoffed. “Well, don’t say that!”

“But I do!”

“Whatever. Wanna get some breakfast?”

“Yeah, okay.” Sutan watched her carefully, sighing slightly, knowing that he fucked up big time, but not sure what to do to fix it.

***

Sutan meant for that one time to be it. He really did. But occasionally, he would let his guard down - usually relating to alcohol or drugs, or both, in those crazy years in the early 2000s, and there she was. With her warm, soft body, her eyes that had seen it all and yet still somehow sparkled for him, her crooked smile.

He knew that it was wrong. She was infatuated with him. He knew this, and he didn’t try to encourage it, in fact told her over and over again that he was no good. But she didn’t care. She knew who he was - all the darkness, all the mistakes, and she still didn’t care. So…what was he supposed to do? He was only human.

She tried occasionally, to have relationships based on more than sex or drugs. They never lasted long and they never ended well. By the time Jinkx was 22, she’d more or less given up on romance. She didn’t need to be that girl, didn’t need love. What she needed was a good time. What she needed were friends and lovers and companions of all kinds, who helped her forget, tune out, who wanted to enjoy the ride with her, enjoy the high.

Sure, there were some missteps along the way. The French ambassador’s daughter who claimed to be 18 but who was actually barely in high school (whoops!). The pool boy in Jamaica who had a hook-up to the best weed Jinkx ever had…probably because it was laced with all kinds of things. At least that’s what the doctors assumed when they pumped her stomach. The twins who moved into her building one winter, who begged her to have sex on camera and then sold it to TMZ.

But after all of those disasters, he was there. After awhile he wasn’t sure if he was helping her pick up the pieces after these broken relationships, or if she was intentionally sabotaging them so that she had an excuse to cry on his shoulder.

And at a certain point…did it even matter? She’d call. She’d have some terrific drugs, stuff he couldn’t afford yet. She’d have a plan - buy out a hotel, fly to Spain, make it rain at a strip club on Long Island - and Sutan would shrug and roll with it. It was fun, and exciting, and, the best part, fleeting. Because after a night, a weekend, in some cases an entire week, they’d crash and burn and go their separate ways. If they were lucky, they’d emerge without police intervention.

It was a tacit agreement that they would never turn into anything serious. That, despite her feelings, which she thoughtfully kept to herself, her place in his life was like a shooting star - brief, beautiful, blindingly hot…and then over.

One thing was always certain. Jinkx knew that she wasn’t competing with the six foot tall supermodels with whom he was always traipsing around town. She certainly wasn’t competing with his family, who he always put first. And she didn’t mind. She liked how much he relied on his family, and how much they relied on him. It reminded her of something that she once had…though she couldn’t be certain she ever did. Maybe it was just in her hazy delusions of a childhood that never existed.

For all Jinkx’s worldliness, her cynical and occasionally bitter outlook, there was something in her that Sutan was hopelessly drawn to. Maybe the carefree and irresponsible way she threw her money around - although he wanted to think it was something less shallow. Because it wasn’t the money itself. Lord knows, even in those years, he could have had any socialite in the city. It was the way she lived without abandon, throwing caution to the wind, never accepting no, never worrying about tomorrow, or how they would get home, or what anyone would think. The future was now with Jinkx. It was both exhilarating and exhausting.

And then…there was the publicity. He couldn’t ignore that. Paparazzi followed her everywhere. And the more he and Raja got photographed with her, the higher their profile was in the NY club scene, the higher Raja’s rate went. Once, in the middle of his negotiations with Dior, the National Enquirer published a full page cover of Jinkx in a nightclub, projectile vomiting, with the headline “MONSOON SEASON.” Raja could be seen over her shoulder, a shocked and semi-delighted expression on her beautiful face. Sutan got Dior to double their terms.

It wasn’t a constant thing, either. Months, sometimes years, would go by without anything happening between the two of them, and when it did, it was always sudden, intense, messy…it was always the worst possible idea but exactly what they needed. No tenderness or romance, just raw, violently passionate fucking. They never spoke much afterwards, either. Generally a week or so would go by and then they’d be back to being buddies. Amigos. Sutan making fun of Jinkx’s wardrobe and Jinkx mocking him for his “conformist” musical taste.

And that was that. It was never meant to be more. And probably wouldn’t have been, if things had gone differently in 2005…

***

Sutan was 32 when his world came crashing down. His mother called him, voice soft and stoic, to tell him that his father was just diagnosed with stage 4 pancreatic cancer. He and Raja were both at a spring fashion week in Milan, and they couldn’t get flights back for almost 2 days. Raja was beside herself, nearly hysterical. Sutan called Jinkx to bring over some weed and sedatives, since the only drugs he had were amphetamines that would obviously not be helpful.

Of course, the redhead came through, and 6 hours later, Raja was finally asleep in Sutan’s bed, passed out. Sutan looked over at Jinkx.

“Thanks,” he whispered hoarsely.

“Sure,” she replied, then asked, “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You look like hell.”

“I feel like hell.” Sutan’s nerves were frayed and his eyes were bloodshot. He felt like he hadn’t slept in days. “I’m gonna go crazy. I just wish we were on a plane already.”

“Why aren’t you?”

“Because all the flights are booked, all the–” Sutan choked back tears.

Jinkx frowned and pulled out her phone. She walked over to the bed and sat down beside Sutan as she spoke to her family’s travel agent.

“Jinkxy, what are you–”

Jinkx put the phone down for a moment. “I’m chartering a jet, first thing in the morning.”

Sutan just nodded, looked down, tried not to cry while she finished her call and hung up.

And then Jinkx’s hands, with her chipped nail polish, were on his face, stroking the shadow of beard that was coming in, looking into his eyes. This was different. This was not their usual thing. This wasn’t the unspoken deal they’d made…but he didn’t stop her. He let her stroke him, kiss him, comfort him with a gentle touch.

And then he let her climb on top of him, slowly undressing him, caressing his skin, lips trailing up and down his body until he was shaking. She leaned forward to let him take her breasts in his hands. She rose up a little to guide him inside her, and she was wet and warm and then she was riding him, faster and faster until he exploded, and then she kept going and he was wrung dry, panting, his moan broken.

He didn’t stop her then, either, not when she cleaned them both up, or re-dressed him in a t-shirt and clean underwear. Or curled up against his back, stroking his hair gently until he, too, fell into a deep sleep.

***

As expected from the initial diagnosis, things progressed very quickly. Within 2 weeks, the doctors admitted that there was nothing they could do, and so Mani took her beloved husband home, and, assisted by a daily hospice nurse, did her very best to make him comfortable.

Raja wouldn’t leave. She slept on her parents’ sofa, or even on the floor at her dad’s feet, but she was there 24/7.

Sutan couldn’t bear to stay there once everyone else went to sleep. The silence, the sickness, it was deafening. It drowned him, engulfed him. So once the house was dark and quiet, he would text Jinkx, who sent a car for him and brought him to her parents’ beach house. It went on like this for a few days.

_JINKXY: Car on the way. 10 minutes._

_SUTAN: Thank you._

_JINKXY: Don’t mention it._

_SUTAN: Do you think you could maybe come too?_

He only had to ask once. She jumped into a cab and arrived minutes after him, finding him curled up in one of the dark, cold bedrooms. She climbed in with him, and they smoked weed and drank beer and did shots of bourbon.

“I’m going crazy,” he confided in her.

She took him into her arms, running her fingers through his unwashed hair. “Join the club,” she said softly.

“Nobody knows.”

“I know.”

“I’m scared of what will happen when they do.”

“I know…I know.” She kissed his forehead, rubbed his back in slow circles.

It was the first night they ever spent together without fucking. Somehow, it felt more intimate than any sexual encounter they’d had. She held him, rocked him, told him that things might not be okay, and it was okay to be pissed off about that. No cliché platitudes about life and things working out in the end.

In the morning, curled against each other, burrowed into the mountain of covers, Sutan didn’t want to let go. His head was cradled against her chest, and for the first time in weeks, he felt safe.

She tilted his chin up. “Good morning,” she whispered.

He took her hand, closing his eyes again.

“Morning,” he sighed.

She looked up at the ceiling, squeezing his fingers back and shaking her head slightly. She was in serious trouble.

***

The funeral was a dreary day in late March. It was just drizzly enough to be miserable, but not enough to move the service indoors. Jinkx shivered in her fur hoodie, clinging to Bianca’s hand. She’d had a fleeting moment where she wanted to go stand with Sutan, but then realized that was a bad idea. He had enough on his plate with Mani and Raja clutching his arms. And then she wondered if it was selfish to even be thinking about that.

During the receiving line after the service, she hugged him tightly and kissed him on the cheek, feeling guiltily thrilled when he held on longer than she expected, burying his face in her unruly hair.

And then… nothing. For two weeks. Which she sort of expected. He was with his family. He was probably still in shock. She would be the last thing on his mind.

She almost missed the call. 5 bourbons, 2 bowls of weed, and 3 Xanax into the evening, her phone started playing his ringtone. She opened her bleary eyes and snatched it off the table. “Hey, you.”

“Hi.” He sounded as miserable as expected.

“What’s the matter?” Well, that was a dumb fucking question.

He sniffled. “I need to get out of here. Raja is going back to work tomorrow, and my mom seems… I dunno. Okay. I wanted to stay with her for another week but I can’t… I can’t be here anymore. Everything reminds me of him and I just… it’s too much.”

“I’m sending a car for you.”

“No, you don’t have to–”

“I know. How much time do you need? An hour?“

He took a slow breath. “Okay. Yes. Thank you.”

***

“Wait…where are we going?” Sutan asked.

“Teterboro,” Jinkx replied, snuggling into his arms, kissing his jaw.

He grinned at her. “And then? Vegas? Ibiza? Reykjavik?”

“Miami.”

Sutan sighed, a wave of relief and mild trepidation washing over him. He knew, in a way, that a few days of utter debauchery was just what he needed. After all, why else would he have called Jinkx? But then, at the same time, he wasn’t sure he SHOULD be doing all that right now.

And then they arrived at the small airport where Jinkx’s chartered plane waited for them, the seats already folded down into beds. They climbed into the big one, settling under the fluffy comforter.

“Get some rest,” Jinkx said, “‘cause when we land, I’ve got big plans. And none of them involve sleep.” She giggled and pulled him close.

“Yes ma'am,” he agreed.

She didn’t lie either. When they landed in Miami, their driver had a bag for Sutan with brand new clothes and toiletries, along with a veritable pharmacy of party drugs.

They snorted a few lines of cocaine in the car and began hitting the clubs immediately, dancing and drinking, Jinkx buying rounds all night, picking up the most beautiful people they met before moving onto the next party.

It was 5 am, at a penthouse in South Beach, when Sutan finally started to let loose. Jinkx was sitting beside him in the hot tub, one leg slung over his, and she pulled over a girl with beautiful olive skin and green eyes.

“What’s your name?” Jinkx asked her, one hand on her arm, the other stroking Sutan’s thigh.

“Marisol.”

“Hi Marisol, I’m Jinkx,” she said, as if she needed an introduction. “And this is my friend Sutan. He’s a modeling agent.”

The girl’s eyes lit up.

“And he’s had a really rough month. I’m trying to cheer him up. Do you think you could help?”

Marisol grinned and moved towards them.

Jinkx leaned her head on his shoulder while Marisol kissed him slowly, tongue invading his mouth, hands on his bare chest.

“Don’t ignore her,” Sutan said when they broke apart. He smiled as Marisol turned towards Jinkx, kissing her, cupping her full breasts.

Jinkx slid a hand into Sutan’s bathing suit, letting her fingers dance teasingly along his throbbing cock. At the same time, she nimbly untied Marisol’s top.

Once Marisol’s hand joined Jinkx’s in his bathing suit, the rest of the evening was a blur. Sutan didn’t remember going back to the hotel, but at some point they were all there - along with two other girls, whose names he never caught. The next day, waking up next to Jinkx, all he remembered was flashes… long hair brushing against his chest and tits filling his hands, soft tongues all over him, a tangle of limbs. The creepy stare of that guy at the party as they sank into the warm water. The salty sweet taste of Jinkx, her hands grasping his hair. The sound of early morning traffic as he finally kicked the other girls out.

He reached down, saw her peaceful sleeping face, and tugged on her red hair. “Let’s go to the beach.”

“Ughhhhhh… okay.” She sat up, rubbing her eyes, clearly hungover but so willing to do anything he wanted.

He kissed her hand, and the way she looked at him, Sutan suddenly felt… it was hard to describe. Overcome. She loved him. He knew this. And he knew she wasn’t perfect, and maybe they weren’t perfect together, but would anyone ever adore him the way she did? He had been so lonely recently, so sad, and here was a girl full of life and joy and yeah, maybe she was a little bit unhinged, a little bit dangerous and unpredictable, but so what? Life was unpredictable.

He took her hips in his hands and rolled over on top of her, pressing her down into the soft mattress, kissing her as she giggled happily and wound her arms around his neck. He looked into her big brown eyes. “Hiii,” she murmured.

And then before he could stop himself, he blurted out, “Marry me.”

“What?!”

“I love you. You love me…don’t you?”

Jinkx’s eyes filled with tears. “Yeah,” she whispered.

“So…let’s get married. What do you think?”

“I think…are you really serious?” Her face was filled with anxiety.

Sutan pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I’m dead serious. I want to marry you.”

Her breath hitched as she nodded. “Okay, then…yes. Yes yes yes!”

Jinkx spent that morning calling everyone she knew to gleefully share her great news. Sutan only made a few calls, and they weren’t exactly in the same vein.

“Jinkx? You’re telling me that you’re marrying JINKX?” Raja’s voice was shrill.

[“What, you love Jinkx!”] he answered back in Indonesian, not wanting Jinkx to overhear their conversation.

“Yeah, I love her like you love a fucking hot ass mess, that doesn’t mean I think she should be your WIFE! Are you gonna have KIDS with her?!”

Sutan laughed, the bump he’d snorted minute earlier starting to take effect. [“I hadn’t really thought that far ahead.”]

“MAYBE YOU SHOULD! I swear to God, TanTan, you little shitbag, I’m gonna–”

“Oh noooo, I’m losing the connection, I better…” Sutan snickered to himself, making fake static noises before hanging up.

They stayed in Miami for a week. Every night, the parties were more and more out of control - nonstop debauchery. They were both giddy, especially once they bought the ring and Jinkx began to flash it around. Within 24 hours, the story was splashed all over every tabloid.

_BIANCA: Well this is not gonna end well_

_RAJA: No shit_

_BIANCA: You gonna try and talk some sense into him?_

_RAJA: I already tried. I’ll try again when he’s back. And not high as a fucking kite._

_BIANCA: Yikes. Want me to talk to her?_

_RAJA: I mean. I guess._ _Whatever, fuck them both._

***

“SUTAN!” Jinkx shrieked from the bedroom. “I SAID COME HERE!”

Sutan sighed, closing his laptop. He’d had a long day at work and now Jinkx wanted to go through a bunch of wedding details. Every day for the past week had been like this. He was starting to regret the whole thing. But… maybe he just needed to suck it up?

“SUTAN!”

He walked down the hall to the master bedroom, where Jinkx kneeled on the bed, surrounded by bridal magazines, brochures, some kind of a horrifying scrapbook…

“What do you think of Capri?”

“Like in general?”

“For the WEDDING, idiot!” Jinkx giggled and threw her arms around him. “My mom wants to do spring, which is a nice time of year there. But also, you can’t go wrong with Greece. What do you think?”

“I think, in keeping with tradition, you should make all the decisions and just tell me when and where to show up.”

“Really? I figured you’d want to be involved. You’re so prissy about your clothes.”

“Gee, thanks.”

Jinkx laughed. “No, I just mean… come here…” she pulled him in for a long, slow kiss. “You’re perfect. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too. I had a rough day at work, and–”

“Oh yeah? Want some Xanax? Weed?”

“No, thanks.” He sat down heavily.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’ve just been thinking… maybe I should try staying away from that stuff. Like… detox for a little while.”

Jinkx raised one eyebrow. “Okay. If that’s what you want.”

“And maybe you should, too.”

“Really, mom?”

“Jinkx…”

“Well, I’m fine! I’m totally under control! In fact, I didn’t even drink this week.”

“You had a whole bottle of wine last night at dinner.”

“Oh my God, that’s WINE, that doesn’t count!” Jinkx laughed.

Sutan sighed. “Forget it.”

Jinkx pushed the wedding crap off the bed and crawled over to him, wrapping her arms around him and kissing his neck. “Sorry about all the wedding talk. I’ll figure it out.”

“All good.”

“Are you okay? You seem really–”

“I’m fine. I’m just tired.”

“Awww, poor baby. Let me take care of you, baby…” She pulled at his belt, undoing the buckle, and sliding her fingers into his pants.

Sutan smiled at her. Maybe things weren’t so bad after all.

***

Sutan lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. Jinkx was passed out face down beside him, after a bender that ended when he dragged her out of the party. She’d gone on a drunken, slurring rant about all the “sluts” that he worked with all day. AKA the models he represented. It wasn’t the first time she’d expressed jealousy in relation to his job, but it was the most embarrassing form it ever took. There were many rumours, most of them true, but if there was one thing everyone and their mother knew it was that Sutan  _never_  slept with his own models.

He was utterly conflicted. On the one hand, he did love Jinkx, insecurity and all, and in spite of her occasionally crazy outbursts, her substance abuse, her sloppiness. On the other hand, all of those things were becoming more and more frequent.

The last thing she slurred before she passed out tonight was, “I wouldn’t care so much about those whores if you brought some of them home with you…”

Sutan sighed. Maybe he was stodgy and traditional, but he didn’t think this was what marriage would be like. The threesomes, the groups - he thought that Miami was their last hurrah with all that, but Jinkx didn’t seem inclined towards monogamy. And thus, she suspected everything he did, everyone he spoke to.

And what did it matter if her suspicions were, to some degree, true? That he hadn’t stopped his occasional dalliances with a socialite or two? That didn’t make her paranoia any less annoying. She didn’t have any proof, and her lack of trust in him was deeply unsettling.

Was it worth it? Sutan was starting to feel his plans unraveling, because deep down, he knew. That the answer, the obvious answer, was of course not. Of course it would never work. An engagement fueled by grief and drugs and adrenaline was not his smartest move. The good news was, there was still time to make things right.

***

“AUUUUUUUUGH!” Jinkx screamed as a glass smashed against the wall.

“JINKX! CALM THE FUCK DOWN!”

“Calm down? Calm down?! CALM DOWN!?” She ran to him, face red, tears streaming down her cheeks, and began to beat her fists against his chest. “You said you LOVED me, you fucking asshole!”

He dodged her punches, grabbing her wrists and shoving her against the counter, attempting to restrain her.

“You’re a fucking liar and I can’t… I can’t…” she gasped for breath.

“This isn’t you. Okay? What the fuck are you on right now?” Sutan’s voice was calm and even.

“FUCK YOU!”

“Fine. I’m out.” Sutan let go and began to walk towards the front door, picking up his briefcase.

Jinkx watched him in despair for a few moments, and then ran after him, throwing herself at him with full force from behind, clutching his arms, burying her face in his back. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she sobbed.

Sutan stopped walking, sighed heavily, turned around. “It’s not your fault. It’s just…sometimes things don’t work out. I’m sorry, too.”

“Please, Sutan, please, I can change! I promise! Okay? I…” she gulped.

He tilted her face up, looked into her bloodshot, glassy brown eyes, saw the pain and the confusion, the panic at the thought of losing him, and his heart broke all over again.

She dropped to her knees. “Please… please give me another chance… I can’t… I can’t live without you.”

“Yeah, you can. You’ll honestly be better off.”

“No. No, no, no!”

“I’m sorry, Jinkxy. But I need… I need to go.” He slowly removed her hands from his sport coat, trying not to let her broken, desperate cries weaken his resolve.

“I fucking HATE YOU!” she screamed hoarsely.

He opened the door, fought the urge to glance back.

“Sutan… please…” when the door closed firmly behind him, she collapsed into a pile of tears, anguish filling every cell of her body.

***

“I feel bad, but I just can’t do it anymore,” Raja said.

“No, I know. Look, I totally want the best for her, but I have a fucking family to look out for. Do you know she showed up at Kelly’s dance recital completely jacked out of her mind, demanding to talk to Sutan? And when I asked her to leave, she started to throw a fucking hissy fit. I had to ask the security guards for help.” Juju took a sip of her coffee, shaking her head.

“Jesus.”

“I heard she’s been calling his assistant like 40 times a day,” Fame added. “And I agree with you. I mean, I’ve always liked her, but this is crazy.”

“Like, enough is enough, you know?” said Juju.

“Yeah. I know that Sutan was kind of a dick. I mean, he definitely messed with her, but I don’t think he did it on purpose, and besides that, he’s my BROTHER. Does she want me to cut off my brother?”

“Its seems so, yes,” Fame chuckled sadly.

“Well, that’s not happening. Obviously.” Raja sighed and poured out a little of her Bloody Mary on the sidewalk. “Here’s to you, Jinkxy, it was a fun ten years.”

“She’s not DEAD, Raja!” Juju exclaimed.

“Oh, right. Well… here’s to her anyway.”

***

Bianca pushed open the door to Jinkx’s apartment. The place was a mess, way worse than usual. Bianca’s fingers itched to start tidying up, but she fought the urge. “Red? Are you here?”

She walked down the hall to Jinkx’s bedroom and the sight nearly gave her a heart attack. It looked like a tornado had swept through the room. Dirty laundry, garbage, empty bottles, even some broken glass from where it appeared a wine bottle had smashed into an ornate antique mirror.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Red.”

Jinkx lifted her head weakly from the pile of tangled comforters, eyes clouded. “Hi, B…” she whispered, and then let her head drop back down dramatically.

“This is like some kind of Judy Garland fever dream, dude. What the fuck?”

“I’m… what’s the point of anything?” Jinkx moaned.

“Alright, that’s enough.” Bianca climbed up onto the bed beside her. “Baby, you’re a fucking mess. You need to get your shit together stat.”

“I know,” Jinkx said tearfully. “But I… I don’t know how.” She began to cry silently, tears rolling down her face.

“I need to know something. This is going to sound mean, but… I don’t know how else to say it.”

Jinkx braced herself.

“Are you trying to kill yourself? Like for real? You wanna be in the fucking 27 club? Do you want to die, Jinkx?”

Jinkx stared at her. She didn’t want to live, not like this. But suddenly the reality of DEATH hit her in the face like a sucker punch, and she shook her head vehemently. “No! No, I don’t… but I don’t… I don’t know what to do. I don’t know… I don’t know anything…” A sob hitched in Jinkx’s chest as she begged, “Tell me what to do, B.”

Bianca took her hands gently, kissed her on the cheek, and then, with a deep breath, began to speak to her. She didn’t really expect Jinkx to hear everything, not right now, but she needed to work through a plan in her own head, just to prove that it was possible. “Okay, well, for starters… stop doing drugs. Because this is not cute. It never was, and I’m sorry if we acted like we were on board. Also… are you even auditioning for anything anymore? Saying ‘aspiring actress’ doesn’t cut it anymore. And by the way, everyone we know thinks you are insanely, staggeringly talented. But they also think you are an unpredictable disaster, so until you grow up and prove them wrong, no one is casting you in anything. You should work at that arts foundation your mother started. That’s a way to build up your rep again in the community, and help some people at the same time.”

Jinkx listened quietly. The upside to Bianca’s incurable bossiness was that it had a somewhat calming effect. It made Jinkx feel like maybe her problems weren’t insurmountable. Bianca had a plan. All was not lost. She nodded slightly.

“So are you gonna listen to me, or do I have to knock you over the head with a frying pan?”

Jinkx felt an ache, deep in her bones. She struggled to take a deep breath. “B… please don’t leave me.”

“I’m here, kiddo.”

“Does everyone hate me?” Jinkx’s eyes were liquid, her face twisted with pain.

Bianca touched her cheek. “Of course not. But…”

“But?”

“Can you handle the truth right now?”

Jinkx paused for a beat before nodding slowly.

“I think everyone else… and remember, I don’t speak for them, this is just my impression… I think everyone is worried about you, and wants you to do well, but at the same time… you’ve been acting really erratic for a really long time. Not everyone can hang with that. Not everyone has it in them to ride it out any longer.”

Jinkx bit her lip, more tears spilling down her cheeks. Bianca brushed them away.

“I’m sorry, Red. I know that wasn’t what you wanted to hear.” Bianca gathered Jinkx into her arms, kissing the top of her head.

She let her cry for a while, rocking her, rubbing her back, holding her while she fell to pieces and then slowly began to regain her composure. The tears slowed, the heaving sobs turned into slow breathing, and her head started to feel heavy against Bianca’s chest.

Bianca took Jinkx’s face into her hands and looked into her honey-brown eyes. “I’m not gonna fuck you, you know. So don’t try anything.”

Jinkx finally laughed for the first time all night, and hit Bianca with a pillow before cuddling closer to get some rest, at last. So… she’d lost everything. She had to start over. It wasn’t the first time. Maybe it wouldn’t be the last. But tomorrow was a new day. And maybe, if she found the right help this time, it could be a better day. 


End file.
